


Tricked Into Something Like a Treat

by actualgarbage



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Costumes, F/M, Fluff, Halloween, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 16:35:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5097578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actualgarbage/pseuds/actualgarbage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She sees at least four spidermen before she opens her door to find herself face to face with a very broad, very patriotic chest.</p><p>“Aren’t you a little old to be going door to door, begging for candy?” Clarke remarks, and is impressed with the casual tone she somehow manages. Her neighbor from across the hall is distractingly hot when he’s dressed like a normal person, but as Captain America, he’s downright jaw-dropping.</p><p>“Aren’t you a little underdressed for the best night of the entire year?”</p><p>“All I’m doing is giving kids candy, I don’t need a costume for that,” she replies, and fully intends to close the door on him, but he takes the bowl of candy out of her hands and walks straight into her apartment with a smirk on his face that she supposes is meant to convey determination, but kind of just makes him look like an asshole. </p><p>But, he’s still a really hot asshole, so she lets him in.</p><p>“You’re not passing out candy anymore. We’re going to a party,”<br/>Based on the Tumblr prompt "you come up to my door in the middle of a sea of children, aren’t you a little old to be trick-or-treating?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tricked Into Something Like a Treat

**Author's Note:**

> yikes @ this title and also lowkey yikes @ this whole fic; it did not turn out the way i had planned and is literal trash bc i am nothing if not consistent

this did not turn out the way i planned but what can ya do

As far as holidays go, Clarke can’t really say she has a favorite. At this point in her life she’s had so many of them ruined by people she loves dying, exes cheating on her or betraying her that she has trouble picking a holiday she even likes- much less a favorite out of those. But so far, Halloween remains in her good graces.

If she tried hard enough, she could most likely find something unpleasant to associate with the day and officially ruin the full spectrum of celebratory occasions, but she didn’t have the energy to. In complete honesty, all Clarke wanted to do was settle down on her couch with a nice glass of bourbon and watch scary movies until she fell asleep, but her apartment building has too many children in it for that to be a viable option. So instead, she’s sitting in the arm chair she dragged across her living room to the entry way hall, waiting for people to knock on her door and ask for candy.

It isn’t what she would call a thrilling Friday night, but she’s had worse.

She sees at least four spidermen before she opens her door to find herself face to face with a very broad,  _very_  patriotic chest.

“Aren’t you a little old to be going door to door, begging for candy?” Clarke remarks, and is impressed with the casual tone she somehow manages. Her neighbor from across the hall is distractingly hot when he’s dressed like a normal person, but as Captain America, he’s downright jaw-dropping.

“Aren’t you a little underdressed for the best night of the entire year?”

She drops a few pieces of sugary candy she doesn’t really like into Wonder Woman’s pillowcase and Jack Sparrow’s pumpkin-shaped bucket before she acknowledges his question.

“All I’m doing is giving kids candy, I don’t need a costume for that,” she replies, and fully intends to close the door on him, but he takes the bowl of candy out of her hands and walks straight into her apartment with a smirk on his face that she supposes is meant to convey determination, but kind of just makes him look like an asshole. 

But, he’s still a really hot asshole, so she lets him in.

“You’re not passing out candy anymore. We’re going to a party,” he tosses out as if it’s already set in stone. 

Clarke doesn’t really even have time to formulate questions about anything before he’s found a pen and some paper and put the candy back in the hallway with a “Take one!” note taped to it. She wishes she had thought of that sooner, actually. Maybe it would have saved her from Bellamy’s intrusion and she could have had her date with that bourbon, but hindsight is always 20/20.

“I’m planning on staying in my apartment all night, but have fun at your party,” she says and wishes that he didn’t look so... _good_  in his costume because she already knows she’s going to cave and let him take her wherever he wants.

“Well Octavia would be pissed if you didn’t show up, considering she asked that I bring you, specifically,” he says in a tone she’s sure he’s trying to make sound offhanded. She’s sold.

“Okay, fine,” Clarke concedes, “but I’m doing this for Octavia.” In truth, it wasn’t just for Octavia and both she and Bellamy know it, but he accepts it as reason. “Let me grab my keys and we can-”

She’s right in the middle of reaching around where he’s leaning on her counter to grab the, but he puts a hand around her arm before she can reach them and it stops her short.

“You can’t go to a Halloween party without a costume, Clarke,” He chides, and she rolls her eyes at him.

He lets go of her arm and races off into her apartment, his jaw set with determination. She tries not to notice the way there’s a distinct absence of heat from where he was holding onto her.

“Let’s see what you’ve got!” He shouts back to where she’s still stranded in the kitchen and it sounds like his voice is coming from her bedroom. She rushes in after him because she’s not fully sure the last time she picked up around her bedroom and there’s a wide range of things that could be laying on her floor that she might not want her hot neighbor to see.

Fortunately it seems that everything is in some amount of order, but he’s standing with her closet doors open wide and rifling through the hangers.

“Do you have a tiara? That’s the only thing I think your closet has potential for as far as costumes go. Why do you have so many of these dresses?” He’s chattering at the rate of a five year old and she’s certain he’s been pregaming on the Halloween candy. He’s honestly a five year old.

“My mom forces me to go to a lot of her charity benefits and whatnot. It means I end up with less closet space afterwards.”

He hums in acknowledgement and pulls a hanger of a light blue evening dress that is in every way suitable for a princess-there’s even flowered embroidery. He holds it out to her, grinning, and she can’t help but smile back and pretend she’s taking the hanger from him reluctantly. 

“So seriously,” he says as he stands outside of her door while she changes. “Do you actually have a tiara? Because if you did, that would be really convenient, but if not, we can stop and pick up one for you on the way.”

“No, I don’t think I do,” she replies, but it’s somewhat muffled as she’s pulling the gown over her head. She’s pleased to find it still fits, but of course, the zipper has to give her trouble halfway up. Her arms were just not meant to reach backwards like that.

“Hey Bell?” She approaches tentatively. This isn’t really something she wants to ask him to do, but she doesn’t have many other options. Last time she had to wear this, Raven had put her into it, but Raven wasn’t her roommate anymore.

“Yeah?” his voice comes from lower than she expected- like he’d slumped down on the floor to wait for her.

“Can you come help me? I’m a little stuck.”

She hears a scrambling noise that confirms her suspicion, and then he’s cracking the door open hesitantly.

“You can come in, I’m decent,” she laughs a little, because if she doesn’t, she’s fully confident she’ll say something that will make this weird. “I just need help reaching the zipper.”

“Yeah, sure,” he comes over casually, and of  _course_  Clarke is making a bigger deal out of this than she needs to be. 

She gives him a quick flash of a smile and turns swiftly, sweeping her hair off her neck. He steps closer, and she can feel the warmth radiating off him. He puts one of his hands on the small of her back, and the other moves slowly to pull the zipper the rest of the way up. She’d be surprised if he couldn’t hear her heart beating in her chest as his fingers accidentally graze over her shoulder blades. It makes her almost wish he were pulling the zipper in the other direction.

He lingers at her back, and she turns around slowly to find that he’s staring down at her with a dazed look she knows has to match her own. It’s unsettling in the best kind of way.

“Your Majesty,” he rumbles, and she can’t help herself. She lets out a breathy laugh and leans her head on his shoulder.

“I’m nothing close to a princess,” she murmurs into his shirt and feels the laugh in his chest at her response.

“Trust me, Clarke, I know, I’ve seen you eat Chinese food,” he teases, and she pulls back and slaps him lightly on his chest, in mock disbelief.

“You take that back!” She gasps, bittersweet that the tension from before has broken.

“Come on, princess, let’s go get you a crown.”

It’s funny, she thinks as she’s riding shotgun on the way to the store. She’s lived across the hall from Bellamy for only a little more than a year now, and yet he feels like he’s been a permanent fixture in her life for ages. He just makes things  _better_.

They’ve been dancing around something she’s not sure she’s ready to label for what seems like months now, and all she knows is that she really doesn’t want to lose him. He’s worth holding onto.

He tugs on her hand as he pulls her around the party store in search of tiaras and claims that they’re going to be late if they don’t rush, but a part of her thinks that maybe he just feels the same warmth at the contact that she does and will take any excuse he can get. That part of her is small and more hopeful than anything else. The rest of Clarke is more practical. 

She’s not afraid that whatever this is is one-sided, she’s more afraid that it isn’t. Everyone she’s let love her is gone- they either left or were taken from her, and she’s not ready to say goodbye to Bellamy any time soon.

Plus, she really doesn’t want to ruin Halloween, too.

He picks her out a crown and they rush to the party even though they’re both fully aware that Octavia doesn’t care about punctuality.

Lincoln and Octavia’s apartment is full of people when they show up, and they spend at least 20 minutes floating between groups of people, saying hi, commenting on costumes- the usual party formalities, and Clarke couldn’t be more relieved to have Bellamy by her side for it. She’s not great at these kind of gatherings and he picks up slack in conversations and stands beside her unfailingly. Just his presence next to her is enough to ground her a little. The realization of that fact startles her a little, and she has to excuse herself to go get a drink.

It’s in the kitchen that she runs into a fairly tipsy Octavia who greets her with a bone crushing hug.

“Bell didn’t tell me he was bringing you!” She slurs. “Well he said he was maybe bringing someone and I hoped it was you, but I didn’t tell him that because he’s..” She pauses and makes some vague gesture with her hands.”He’s Bellamy, and he’s stubborn and oblivious.”

“You didn’t tell him you insisted that I show up?” Clarke intones.

“Nah,” Octavia brushes off and ushers Clarke over to the kitchen island so she can get herself a drink. “If I did that he wouldn’t have asked you because he gets annoyed when I’m right. Why? Did he tell you I told him to come? That’s so typical of Bellamy, you know? He’s just...” She makes another vague gesture and Clarke nods her head more to appease O than anything else, but she understands.

Still, it’s hard not to feel a little smug that Bellamy didn’t think she’d come with him unless Octavia insisted. He was shy about it. Cute.

She sidles up to him where he’s talking to Miller and smirks at him and ignores his brief flash of confusion before diving into a conversation with Miller about his firefighter costume. 

Not soon after, one of Octavia’s friends pulls a short girl by the hand into the middle of the room and declares something about a dance party, and Bellamy gives her just enough time to set her drink down before he grabs her hand and twirls her around and pulls her close.

“I have to teach you to dance like a prince if I’m going to be a princess,” Clarke tells him as she grabs one of his hands and places her free one on his shoulder.

“Who says I can’t dance?” Bellamy mocks offense.

“Well let’s see what you’ve got,” Clarke challenges with an eyebrow raised. He stares back at her for a second.

“No you’re right,” he laughs, “I can’t dance.”

“I’m disappointed in you, Cap,” she admonishes and spends the next half hour trying to teach him to waltz, regardless of the fact that it didn’t remotely match the music. Being with Bellamy was easy.

The night passes swiftly and before she knows it, they're saying goodbye and heading back to Bellamy’s apartment. He’d found out at some point during the night that she’d never seen Nightmare Before Christmas and he happened to have it.

It’s only once they’re snuggled on his couch (which she blames on being tipsy, but she feels as sober as ever, despite the drinks) that she brings up what Octavia told her.

“You know,” she says as the credits start rolling. “If you wanted me to be your date to a party, you could have just asked. You don’t have to pretend your sister asked me to come.”

He has the decency to look bashful.

“I didn’t think you’d want to go,” he replies, and a shy Bellamy isn’t something she’s really seen before, but she thinks she could get used to it. She sits up so she can look him in the face.

She places a hand on his jaw and waits until he’s staring in her eyes before she tells him “I’d go anywhere with you.”

It’s not the best-thought-out line she’s ever said, and it probably doesn’t even make a whole lot of sense, but she guesses that it means enough to Bellamy because one arm is pulling her into his lap and the other slides up her jaw and into her hair, and when their lips finally crash together all she can think is  _finally_.

It’s safe to say that Halloween is by far Clarke’s favorite holiday, but when she gets to spend them with Bellamy, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years- they all fall back into her good graces pretty easily.

**Author's Note:**

> thoughts??? comments??? feelings??? i wrote this all this afternoon bc i remembered i had time-sensitive prompts in my inbox so i obvi haven't proofread and all of my mistakes belong to me  
> xoxo  
> (ps u can find me on [tumblr](protectlydiamartin2k15.tumblr.com) if that's something ur into)


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